A Black Hole of Mine...

Scientifically speaking, Black hole is considered to be a constrict mass with gravity so high such that nothing to reach its horizon can come out. A hole on the sheet of SpaceTime if you would say. A Dead Star may be. But who is speaking scientifically here? I am not.

I say I have a black hole of my own. My very private black hole that eats up everything that comes in its range and never let come back! In a corner of mind… brain… heart… somewhere… a compact mass of too many dead dreams and thoughts and stories and emotions and memories. So many failures and successes too. So many defeats and victories too may be… who knows. So many of everything I have ever felt over years constrained chaotically in a small corner. So tight that they can’t breathe… so tight that they aren’t distinguishably visible anymore. So tight… that as I look back… all I see is a big uneven carbon black spot. A hole on the plane of my life.

Black hole is all that is unexplainable. Black hole is all that does not fit anywhere. Black hole is what fell out of the SpaceTime plane. Black hole is all that ceases to exist.

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Or is it? Science (that I don’t follow much) says, black hole, like everything else follows the theory of reversibility… or conservation if you would call it. It does not miss out or loses any matter or information that hits it and is disappeared inside it. Nothing is destroyed. All is preserved.

Does the same apply to my Black hole? Can I say nothing… not even a single moment of what I have lived through ever got missed out? It is preserved inside the constrained corner of my mind. I don’t know… is it?

Why then I don’t remember it? Why then I can’t learn from it? Why then I don’t feel it or live it? Why then it is so not present anymore…

But why then… I know when I make the same mistake again… or again again! Why then a passing by moist wind feels familiar? Why then the pitter-patter of drops gives a sudden deja vu? I don’t remember this happening before? Why then it is not unknown?

Maybe black hole is all that mysterious time and space out of time and space. May be black hole is a plane/place/chunk falling out of my life. May be all that comes in its reach is sucked away from me… but I tend to believe… and don’t ask me why… that it is kept safe there inside it… somewhere. It’s just that I can’t reach out to it… unless I am ready to be as frozen as all that is inside it.